


They Only Bloom In Your Eyes

by Cynthia_Gold



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Bunker, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Flowers, Fluff, Grumpy Dean, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Sam is a Little Shit, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3890164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynthia_Gold/pseuds/Cynthia_Gold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets really sentimental about the first time he danced with Cas, and then the first time he *cough* <i>danced</i> with Cas.  Fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Only Bloom In Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Coldplaying_In_The_TARDIS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coldplaying_In_The_TARDIS/gifts).



> All lyrics and title from Glenn Miller's "Blue Orchids".

Dean was frozen.  Like it or not, he had gotten in over his head, and now his body forbade his movement towards the threshold.  He could _smell_ his target, he was so close, and it tickled and teased at his nose like a capricious lover. 

Dean Winchester couldn’t enter a florist’s. 

Djinns, dragons, demons—no problem.  But _this_? No no, Dean was _not_ going into a flower shop to buy flowers.  _Certainly_ not for an angel.  His angel. 

Dean shook the thought out of his head.  He had a mission, damn it.  Besides, he could practically feel Sam’s eyes on his back, feeding off his hesitation as fuel for future torment.  He’d never let Dean live it down if he didn’t walk in, and even if Dean died and came back— _again_ \--, Sam probably still wouldn’t be over it. 

As if in response, Dean’s phone shuddered out a text notification which read:

“Dude.  Lady giving you some major stink-eye, 9 o clock.  Just go in.”  -Sam

Dean attempted inconspicuousness as he looked up and to his left, and sure enough, a little, dark-skinned old lady tottered towards the entrance at a vegetative pace, glaring at Dean through her bottle-thick glasses with each creeping step, suspicion undisguised on her wrinkled mouth.

“Uh,” Dean said. “Hey there.”  Dean raised his hand and smiled in an attempt to make peace, but the old hag would have none of it.  Dean gave a distressed chuckle before “O-okay, I’ll just,” all but fleeing into the sweet aroma’s embrace, very much wishing he could turn to show his little brother his middle finger.

Every orifice of the flower shop teemed with green leaves and cutesy flowers just waiting to be picked up and carried home.  _To die_ , Dean’s mind helpfully added as he awkwardly shuffled through the rows of potted and bagged plants, searching for his target.

_“Of course I can dance, Dean.  I am far older than dancing.”_

_“What? Come on man, you’ve been a friggen’ rainbow with wings for a few thousand years.  No way.”_

Genuine nervousness seeped into his thoughts.  Surely Cas would appreciate the sentiment, right?  He’s always been a bit of a hippie, a bit of a sap.  A sap who could vaporize his enemies’ innards and sometimes fly.  A very nerdy, very badass sap.

_“Okay fine, twinkle-toes, I’ll just put on some music…” Gingerly Dean plucked the first record his hand touched from the rack.  Amusement danced in Castiel’s eyes._

The flowery faces he sought stared back at him from a petite arrangement on the shelf.  A smile bloomed on Dean’s face in return.  “Yahtzee,” he exclaimed to himself, reaching out for the plants, now cupping the small pot in his hands.  His lips drooped in a manner similar to that of some of the leaves around him, however, when he noted the price.  He shrugged after a moment.  It’s not like it was his money, anyway. 

_“I would like a partner to dance with.”  The needle dropped delicately, and a rich tones of saxophone and clarinet called out to them._

_Dean blinked.  He hadn’t considered that.  “Uh, sure Cas, but I—“_

_Cas’s left hand was already on Dean’s waist, the right already rising to meet Dean’s shoulder.  “Follow my lead.”_

Sam wouldn’t stop smirking and grinning for the entire duration of the drive back.  The bastard. 

“What can I say, Sam?” was Dean’s deflection.  “I’m a regular Prince Charming.  Hey—watch it!  That soil’s about to spill!  So help me Sam if you let any of that dirt touch my car—“

_Toes bumped as Glenn Miller’s warbling tones serenaded them through the pops and cracks of the recording._

_(I dreamed of two blue orchids, two beautiful blue orchids, one night while in my lonely room…)_

_“Now move your left foot this way and—“_

_“Ouch!”_

_“That was the incorrect foot, Dean.”_

_“Just shut up and dance, alright feathers?”_

Cas smelled the flowers before he saw them.  “Hello Sam, Dean,” greeted Castiel cordially as the two shuffled in, Dean cradling the pair of azure blooms in his palms. 

Sam decided then would be a good time to escape, but not before jabbing Dean lightly in the ribs.  Exit moose, stage left, pursued by a glare.

_(…I dreamed of two blue orchids, so rare and full of light, that I wanted to possess each tender bloom …)_

_The angel soon coaxed Dean into an easy rhythm, turning, swaying gently as grass does in the breeze.  They laughed at the occasional misstep, smiling at each other through their mistakes.  Cas’s eyes always seemed so much bluer up close._

“Heya Cas, I um…” Dean trailed, suddenly shy.  “Here.”  He offered the two blue orchids to Cas.

Castiel’s eyes widened in sudden realization, and soon his eyes were crinkling with pleasure around the edges.  “Dean, you remembered…”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah of course I remember…  It’s funny, I actually thought that maybe you didn’t remember, and so I thought about not getting these, but—“

_Cas’s lips were certainly much softer up close, pressed against Dean’s own._

_(…Then my dream took wings, and through a thousand springs, blue orchids seemed in a world apart…)_

The flowers brushed their delicate blue petals against Cas’s and Dean’s shirts as the two embraced, careful despite their passion not to crush the source of it.

_The two did not end their embrace, not after the record stopped and the room was silent.  Nor did they break it for long except to remove barriers to closeness, to feel one another’s warmth, smell the other’s fragrances._

_(…I saw my two blue orchids, my beautiful blue orchids, last night and what a sweet surprise…)_

“Thank you, Dean.  These… these are very special to me.”

Dean pecked Cas on the corner of his mouth.  “Yeah, well, good.”  Dean set down the flowers on the nearest surface, only to bring Cas closer to him. “You don’t know the trouble I went through to find those.”

_When the two lovers were spent, they embraced each other still, even as they struggled to catch their breaths.  “Dean?”_

_“Yeah, Cas?”_

_“Do you still think I can’t dance?”_

_(…When you looked at me, it was plain to see, blue orchids only bloom in your eyes.)_


End file.
